Small Town Christmas (Blue Harbor #4) - Olivia Miles Page 0,65

just be falling in love with Blue Harbor.

And maybe, with her.

Only now, it made sense, didn’t it? He never came back here. Blue Harbor wasn’t his home. The man didn’t even like Christmas. He was giving it one last go for Georgie’s sake before he closed the door on his past for good.

Only she wasn’t ready to say the same. Not without a fight. That store represented everything that was good about her life. Her fondest memories. The fact that hope and happiness could still shine through, lighting up even the darkest of times.

“We’ll find you another storefront, honey,” Lanie was saying, still thrusting the card at her.

Cora took the card and held it in her hands, even though she had no intention of using it. She didn’t want another storefront. It wouldn’t be the same. There would be no winding rooms for customers to meander through, and no themed spaces, either. There would be no tree lot next door come Thanksgiving. And there would probably be no upstairs apartment for her to live in, either.

Lanie’s phone buzzed; she checked it with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “I completely forgot this appointment. I’d better run. But, you’ll be okay, Cora,” she insisted. She smiled her beatific smile, and for a moment, Cora almost dared to believe her. She squeezed Cora’s hand before slipping away. “Call me. We’ll find you something else!”

Only Cora didn’t want something else. That shop was her second chance. Her fresh start. And her happy ending.

At least, that’s what she’d thought…until Phil Keaton came to town.

She turned, leaving the café, forgetting her egg sandwich and knowing that if Amelia were to see her face right now that she’d instantly know that something was wrong. Very wrong. And that she’d want an explanation.

Only Cora couldn’t give an explanation, because she didn’t even have one for herself.

If Phil wanted to make her vacate, he’d had ample time to tell her, yet he hadn’t.

This called for a visit. And not a cheerful one.

*

Cora knew she should go to the shop—with the activity she expected today, it seemed impossible not to be there bright and early. But it felt more impossible to think that come next week, she might not have a store at all.

Almost as impossible as the thought that Phil Keaton would be the one to take it away from her.

She hurried off a quick text to Natalie that she had important business to tend to and would be in as soon as possible, and hopped in her car, wasting no time in following the curving roads to the Keaton cottage.

In the morning light it looked small and sweet, the front path had been cleared of snow and there was the evidence of a Christmas tree in the front window. But the candles that Mrs. Keaton used to put at the base of each window ledge were gone, along with the wreath that always hung from their front door. Back when they’d lived in town, Cora had personally delivered each month’s rent check. She knew that Mrs. Keaton loved to have company for a cup of tea and some conversation.

Today’s visit wouldn’t be so cozy. Or personal. This was strictly business.

If Phil was surprised to see her standing outside his front door, he did a good job of showing it. But then, Cora thought with dismay, he was turning out to be quite the actor, wasn’t he?

Still, her heart flip-flopped at the sight of that slow grin and the way his eyes crinkled at the corner as he held the door wider.

“Please tell me you’re not here to carol,” he said.

She wavered for a moment. Only a few days ago—heck, a few hours ago—she might have had a witty response to that, but today she was in no mood.

She shook her head. She was shaking, but not from the cold.

“Good. Georgie has had holiday music blasting all morning. Come in. You must be freezing.”

More like boiling in rage, she thought. Still, she managed a tight smile and walked inside the house. It was warm, stifling really, but she didn’t want to unravel her scarf or unbutton her coat or even shed her gloves. She wasn’t here to make herself at home. She was here for answers.

In the distance she could hear the music, and she hoped that Phil wouldn’t ask Georgie to turn it down. This conversation was better kept between the two of them. If things went as she feared, it might not even turn out to